James McAvoy gives his all everytime he’s in something. I mean, M Night Shyamalan asked him to play like 23 different characters and he just said “got it” and went to work. I didn’t expect he’d want to direct a movie ever, but I’m pretty sure California Schemin’ works in part because of McAvoy, and his consummate professionalism and his devotion to his home, Scotland. And apparently, some love of hip hop?
California Schemin’ takes some time to get to the title location. We start in Dundee, Scotland in the early 2000s, a place of working class living. Billy Boyd (Samuel Bottomley) and Gavin Bain (Seamus McLean Ross) know it, doing telemarketing, going to the pub, and repeat. Their big borderline impossible dream is they record hip hop demos and try to get on the radio. After a couple rejections from executives claiming they’re “too Scottish”, the boys decide to fake it. They plan a collective backstory, learn how to speak American English, and go by the name Silibil (Billy) ‘N Brains (Bain) when they perform onstage. Their cocksure bravado draws the eye of producer Tessa (Rebekah Murrell), who sees something in the duo and convinces legendary music exec Anthony Reid (James McAvoy) to sign them.
The story of Silibil N’ Brains is the standard music biopic stuff. As such, the best part always is the ascent, assuming you can make it something unique. As a work hard Scot himself, McAvoy has a blast building Billy and Gavin from the bottom to the top. You really feel the first 20 minutes like you’re in Dundee with the boys. Billy at least has the sweet cool girlfriend Mary (Lucy Halliday), supportive of the musical pursuits and an incredible hang. Poor talented Gavin needs a win: McAvoy and Seamus McLean Ross really sell how Bain feels life and dreams slipping away from him, and he needs something good to happen soon. You feel like these guys are buds, will Billy lifting up his boy when he’s down and Gavin giving Billy a dream he never knew he wanted. This all gets cemented in the failed auditions, where the boys collectively bond together over BS feedback and condescending music executives, transforming into wonderful montages of their transformation to Silibil ‘N Brains via American pop culturisms. When it comes time to perform, the early pub performances are hella fun, with McAvoy showcasing why Silibil ‘N Brains’s music was so infectious and got the crowds bumpin.
The fall is less interesting. McAvoy at least lands on a great way to show the descent into madness. Gavin NEEDS Silibil ‘N Brains to be successful, and as such, never drops the crazy American accent. Billy, the guiding light, sees the utter madness eventually, and starts to come back to reality. The big fight we know is coming works so powerfully through this simple “fake it till you make it” idea from James, as Gavin starts believing his delusional backstory because he so wants it to be real. That psychosis also means the cool Mary is now a liability if she’s around Billy all the time; Billy makes his own mistakes, but instead of being a pal and trying to stop that behavior, Gavin simply, sits back and finds subtle ways for Mary to find out what fame has done to her boyfriend. Instead of going crazy big with the fall, McAvoy at least makes California Schemin’s conflicts grounded in the interpersonal relationships of the trio, so the stakes are clear and we actually care about what happens to Silibil ‘N Brains, or should I say, Billy and Gavin.
Scottish boy did right by his home. You did good James McAvoy. You even got a nice subtle dig at the big country to the south with the cameo you used here. I hope you enjoyed your time in the director’s chair, and you get more chances to tell more Scottish tales like this one in the future. Now, off to the pub!